Spades placed the metal box filled with strong acid on the alcohol lamp and released his thumb from the pressed hole.
The particles inside corroded and turned into a viscous black liquid, flowing down his fingers like dark blood.
As the "blood" dripped onto the alcohol flame, it burned again, producing a peculiar, multicolored reaction. The orange-red flame shifted to an unsettling greenish-purple, leaping restlessly as the liquid fell.
The dull green light cast Spades' shadow shakily across the tent, dancing aggressively, as if a monstrous spirit were trapped inside him, ready to burst out as the particles incinerated.
The liquid extinguished the alcohol lamp three times as it dripped. Spades, unfazed, relit it each time and waited until he was certain every trace of the liquid had burned away before finally putting out the solid block of alcohol in his hand.
After packing the remaining alcohol and acid, Spades changed his clothes, knelt to lace his snow boots, and casually grabbed a rash jacket. He then collected the rest of his supplies: acid, fuel, solid alcohol, and some food items he had purchased and brought from the shop outside.
The shop system was disabled in the game pool, but Spades didn't normally need to carry food or a change of clothes.
He had always been quick to finish games. As his new teammate, Judge Against God, put it: Spades liked to brute-force his way through challenges. It was effective, but it also undermined the integrity of the game.
Usually, when Spades entered a game, the monsters didn't even wait for him to eat his next meal before he claimed absolute victory. This is why, in the later stages of training, Judge Against God grew anxious.
The Killer Sequence, last year's championship team, was undoubtedly a formidable fighting force.
They had been dark horses among the old guild teams. None of the five players was easy to beat, and then there were the perception-shattering top aces like Spades.
When Spades swung his whip, silence and tranquility followed.
Even the Deer Hunter's proud reformer had to grit their teeth and admit: Spades didn't need weapon modifications at all. The weapon was merely an accessory—optional. Whatever he wielded, Spades himself was the most lethal force on the field.
No reformer dared claim they could improve an existing Spades. He was already the best.
This was common knowledge in the game, as unquestionable as the fact that the Earth is round and revolves around the sun.
But the Killer Sequence, a young championship team, had a fatal flaw: all five players were main attackers.
No shield, no crowd control, no roaming, and, most notably, no tactician.
Last year's win had relied on Spades' sudden, overpowering performance, catching other teams off guard.
A year later, however, that one-man tactic had lost its invincibility. The team's flaws were now apparent. While Spades was near-perfect, his teammates were not.
After a year of study, nearly every guild team had developed tactics against the Killer Sequence, analyzing Spades' skills, his teammates' habits, and their teamwork patterns.
The Hearts of the King Guild openly published a strategy against Spades: backup healer plus double crowd control. It wouldn't kill Spades, but it would make things difficult for the remaining four players.
Just as guilds prepared to challenge the fledgling Killer Sequence in the next tournament, Spades did something that stunned everyone—
He poached the Deer Hunter's tactician, [The Judge of Defying Gods (Reverse God)].
The game's forums erupted for an entire week, filled with speculation and disbelief as players questioned the Killer Sequence's sudden acquisition of [The Judge of Defying Gods].
What type of player was Spades?
Anyone who had seen him play would understand his "independence." He was a typical main attacker: tripping mines, sweeping lanes, pushing low-level bosses, and beating opponents at lightning speed. He even posted an outrageous 1–5 record in the semi-finals.
With no tactician, Spades was the nucleus of the team.
Yet, ironically, he was conspicuously absent as the centerpiece—he barely communicated with his teammates during the game. When other guilds reviewed replays, they had to admit it: Spades seemed to need no communication at all. Even if he did communicate, his teammates couldn't always keep up, so he simply didn't bother.
A man who, in a thirty-two-to-sixteen match, could misjudge a teammate begging for help, stab them with a whip, realize the mistake, apologize without sincerity, and immediately chase a monster—such a man could poach someone else's tactician?
Yet that's exactly what happened. The Judge of Defying Gods transferred to the Killer Sequence guild, becoming the team's only non-main attacker—the tactician in this outrageous combination.
The last people who wanted to see this were the other guilds, who had spent most of the year preparing to take down the Killer Sequence. They knew exactly how much of a boost The Judge of Defying Gods could provide to a team with a player like Spades.
The Judge of Defying Gods' skill was prophecy, and he was the best tactician in the game. The combination of the top tactician and the best main attacker sent guilds into despair.
But that despair was short-lived.
The two best didn't work well together at all.
After the Judge of Defying Gods joined, he quickly devised a new training program—but so far… it was a mess.
The Judge of Defying Gods restricted Spades' performance, insisting he follow commands and not attack monsters or opponents without orders. Spades looked attentive enough, so he carelessly added him to the game pool.
Once in the game, Spades was like a wild fish out of water. He disappeared in an instant.
The Judge of Defying Gods spent half a day searching, convinced Spades had fallen into a trap. In the end, he found him in the middle of a bloody mess.
Spades, whip taut in hand, had strangled a monster's head, dropped it behind him, and looked back as if nothing had happened. Blood dripped from his eyelashes, but his face was calm, his voice soft:
"Sorry, I just saw the monster. I couldn't control myself. It didn't affect your training plan, right?"
Meanwhile, the other four received a system notification:
[System Notification: Congratulations to player Spades for leading the team through the game! Game over!]
Spades relaxed. "Ah… so that's a win?"
The other three teammates: "..."
You're smiling, aren't you? Smiling because you won—alone! Have some team spirit!
Over the next few months in the game pool, the Judge of Defying Gods' definition of team combat was painfully updated by Spades: watching over him was basically a war.
In group fights, while farming monsters or completing main quests, every moment, every second, if anyone looked away, Spades vanished. By the time the team scrambled to find him, a system announcement would often appear: the game was cleared.
The Judge of Defying Gods was tormented to the point of a nervous breakdown. His prophecy skill was no longer used to predict opponents or objectives—it was just to locate Spades.
Spades was like a hyperactive child: fast, competitive, and seemingly obedient—but impossible to control. Meanwhile, the disappointed tactician spent his days and nights searching, broadcasting frantic messages:
[Spades! Spades, where are you?]
[Come out! I won't force you to follow orders this time! It's my fault for being a bad tactician!]
[We're going home! Let's stop playing games for now!]
Eventually, the Judge of Defying Gods begged for some peace, leaving Spades to wander—or rather, train—alone while he took the other three to grind and practice.
It would have been demoralizing for the invincible ace to be benched, but Spades took it well. He listened this time and went off to train alone.
Spades' intuition as a main attacker was recognized by his teammates, the audience, and the tactician alike.
Following that intuition, he chose the Ice Age dungeon as his personal training ground. Something about the dungeon drew him there, as if an inherent mission compelled him to confront the evil hidden within—and obliterate it completely.